That One Stupid Cookie
by luckless-is-me
Summary: In which Demyx can't stop pinning and Zexion has a thing for bitter cookies. Request for xxFraise. Fluffy Zemyx.


**Fail title is fail. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor do I own Kingdom Hearts. (Sora wouldn't be the main character and there would most definitely be an M rating splashed across the front). However, I do own this story and would appreciate not getting robbed. It's not on my to-do list at the moment. Check back next month. **

**Author's Note is at the bottom! And, I apologize in advance for any formatting issues! Fanfiction is being a pain! **

_

* * *

_

_He was gorgeous. He was the prettiest man that Demyx had ever seen. And he, he was in Demyx's shop, standing patiently at the to-go counter, his hands resting lazily in the pockets of his slightly loose jeans. On the inside —__deep inside the bottomless depths of Demyx's flamboyant little heart, Demyx let out the girliest squeal he was capable of (but _only _on the inside). Then, like the overjoyed sweet shop owner he was, he went to wait on the man, smiling in the same way he always did__—__though now he had a little bit more to smile about. _

"_May I help you?" Demyx asked once he'd reached the counter, looking the man over with glee, happy to be so close. The man wasn't very tall, being several inches shorter than him, and he wasn't particularly muscular either. In reality, the man was quite frail looking with his overly pale skin and boney frame. However, frail or not, that did not change the downright _intimidating _air that rolled off of him in waves. With one look into the man's eyes__—__eye, really, since the other one was covered by a curtain of slate hair. A shame, since his visible eye was such a lovely shade of deep sea blue__—__ Demyx could tell that he was most definitely a "no nonsense" type of guy. Did Demyx care? No. Not at all. In fact, he was quickly developing a bit of a "thing" for "no nonsense" type of guys. _

"_Yes, you may." The man scowled, brushing his slate fringe out of his face only for it to fall back in front of his eye. "I would like a cookie__—"_

"_Just one cookie?" Demyx cut in, dirty blond eyebrow raised. "I mean, we have hundreds of cookies and you can't eat just one." Really. Eating only one cookie was just not natural. Or right. Whichever. _

"_I am well aware of the fact a sweets shop carries hundreds of cookies. Mr.—" he hastily checked the blond's nametag "—Demyx. However, that does not change _anything; _I would like _one _cookie. A bitter one would be preferable if you any." The slate-haired man bit out, sighing at Demyx's increasingly bewildered expression. First, this gorgeous man shows up out of nowhere. Then, he asks for _a _cookie—who does that? And now this! A bitter cookie? Why buy a cookie in the first place? Why not buy a box of raisons or something equally disgusting? _

"_So let me get this straight…you want a bitter cookie? And just one?" _

"_Yes!" He growled, an exhausted expression present in his eyes, like he'd had this conversation one too many times before._

"_Okay, okay." Demyx held his hands up in surrender, smiling. "I don't think we have any really bitter cookies, but we have some lemon flavored ones. Is that okay?" The slate-haired male nodded, not really caring _what _flavor the damn cookie was. "All right then, that'll be ten munny…unless you want another one?" The man glared, his deep sea colored eye narrowing dangerously. "One cookie it is then." Demyx smiled happily, like he was completely oblivious of the daggers being glared at him (and he was—mostly, at least)._

_Still glaring angrily (much like a cat that had just been doused in water), the man handed over the required amount, watching as Demyx slowly deposited each coin into the register. He finished with a smile, turning to open the baby blue door that led into the kitchen. "Axel!" He called. "I need one lemon cookie at the to-go counter, please!" A loud crash followed by the sound of someone yelling the word shit at the top of their lungs could be heard as Demyx let the door swing closed behind him as he turned back to face his admittedly odd customer. The man had one elegant slate eyebrow raised as if he was asking Demyx a silent question. The blond just smiled at him, completely used to this sort of thing. _

_After a short moment of silence, the kitchen door swung open (rather angrily actually), revealing a beanpole of a person with flaming red hair and acidic green eyes, wearing…a blue apron, oddly enough. He smiled feraly, and handed Demyx one very small blue bag with the words "The Melodous Nocturne" printed across the front. It was a rather scary sight. Really, it was._

"_Thanks a bundle, Ax." Demyx smiled, taking the small bag and holding it out to the slate-haired male. "Here you go." The man tried to grab it, but when his hand got within reach of it, Demyx snatched it away, smiling that infuriating smile of his. "Don't I at least get your name?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. _

_The man's face darkened, a red blush climbing up his neck and onto his thin cheeks, before he growled, snatching the bag and stomping away. "Not on your life!" he yelled, his voice echoing off the blue walls as he slammed the door closed behind him. _

_After a moment, the redhead spoke, a lazy type of grin spread across his thin lips. "Dude, you okay? That was brutal." Demyx just smiled, leaning heavily against the to-go counter. _

"_I think I'm in love." _

That happened exactly one year ago to the day. And, absolutely nothing had changed. Every day at exactly four o'clock, the man would return to Demyx's shop and purchase one cookie—just one— before leaving, normally in a bit of a huff due to something Demyx had said. Of course, that never stopped him from coming back the next day and the day after and the day after that. The man never failed to be standing at the to-go counter when four o'clock came around. Never. He had been coming to the shop non-stop for the past three hundred and sixty-five days— give or take a few due to holidays. And, over the past year, Demyx's thinking had turned to _knowing_.

He was in love with the slate-haired man.

But, there was one small mostly irrelevant issue.

He didn't know the man's name.

Despite Demyx's endless attempts at learning that vital piece of information, the man simply wouldn't budge. _Ever_. He had never once slipped up; he'd never revealed even on single letter. It was driving Demyx crazy! He just had to know the name of the love of his life—even if his love probably thought he was a little off his rocker. And, today was the day. Today was the day that he would learn the man's name, for he had a plan.

"Dem, stop smiling like that. You'll scare off the customers."

"Like you're one to talk." The redhead just grinned at that, shaking his wide hips as he wiped off one of the shop's many eat-in tables. He couldn't deny it. When Demyx first opened the shop, Axel had been his first employee (probably due to the fact that they had known each other for years and Axel was a little on the broke side). He was there every day the shop was open, walking alongside Demyx in hopes of keeping the customers happy. Of course, after about a week Demyx figured out why none of the children would come in to buy treats whenever Axel was working the floor. As told by a boy by the name of Sora, Axel was a "really big scarecrow alien" that wanted to eat his brain. Since then, Axel had stopped smiling at the younger customers, because it typically sent them running through the door screaming. It wasn't his fault, though. Really, it wasn't. There was just something…odd about the way his mouth worked. That's all it was. Honest.

"What're you all smiles about anyway? It's Monday. First day of the week, worst day of the week. You ever hear of that?" Demyx just smiled that sweet—albeit slightly creepy—smile of his, waiting patiently at the to-go counter for the love of his life. Of course, it was only 3:51, and the slate-haired man never seemed to show up until just a moment before the clock struck four. But, no matter. Demyx was prepared to wait. He would wait as long as it took for the slate-haired beauty, and he would do it without complaint! He would prevail against time! Hesitantly, the blond looked at the clock positioned so lovingly against the wall.

Damn it all. It was only 3:52.

Curses.

"Monday or not, today's the day, Ax. I'm going to get his name this time around! Just you wait!" Demyx exclaimed excitedly, that slightly creepy smile of his turning into a full-on grin. Axel simply sighed, moving on to the next table in line. He was used to this sort of behavior from the blond. He had known him all his life and he had supported him all his life. So, if Demyx wanted to go after this guy that he's been pinning over for the past year, Axel didn't see a problem with letting him, no questions asked. After all, Demyx was and adult; he could take care of himself (most of the time, anyway).

"Yeah, yeah. Tell me how it goes when it's over; I'll be in the back room if you need me." Hastily, Axel gathered up his cleaning supplies—yes, he did own them; he'd even had the rag custom made with fire engulfing the required music notes—and slipped through the kitchen door, ready to hole up in the back room for who know how many hours. What? He trusted Demyx to make his own decisions, but that didn't mean he had to stick around and watch them crush the guy again over and over again. Really, who wants to see that? The answer: not Axel. No, he came in later when the whole 'wiping Demyx's ass off the floor' part came in.

"'Kay." Demyx mumbled into the crook of his arms, his chin resting against the counter. Stupid clock hated him. For real. It's not like he was asking for a lot. All he wanted was on teeny-weeny bend in the space time continuum. That's all. Just one tiny bend that would magically span across four minutes and make it exactly four o'clock.

That's not a lot to ask for, right?

Suddenly, the bell at the door jingled, signaling the arrival of a sweet-loving customer. With desperate hope, Demyx raised his oceanic eyes to see…Sora, the cute brunette that came in every once in a while in search of sweets—like he needed any. He was sweet and his hair completely defied gravity, but he was no slate-haired beauty. Demyx sighed; stupid clock said there were three minutes left. How terribly depressing.

"Hey, Demyx!" The brunette shouted, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet so he could see over the counter. "Do you have any new sweets today? I want something chocolaty and minty and-and maybe something with caramel! And Riku told me about that new ice cream you have! He said it was really good, but blue! I've never seen blue ice cream before, so I wanna see some! Maybe I'll try some too! Would that be okay, Demyx?" Absentmindedly, Demyx nodded, directing Sora to a shelf towards the back of the store—come on, it's not like he could ever say no to eyes _that _big; it just wouldn't be right. As expected, Sora hurried off, leaving Demyx to mind the counter while he waited for the love of his life. His very own slate-haired beauty. The man who stalked his dreams. The— oh, hey, when did he come in?

Oceanic orbs widened to comic proportions as his head looked from the clock to the slate-haired man he'd fallen head over heels for. It was exactly 4:01; how did he miss that? Sure, he was a little busy with Sora and maybe he'd never been all that observant, but really? He just completely missed him walking in the door and right up to him? What the hell! He'd just missed out on the perfect opportunity for eye candy! He just let it go right by him like vroom! Gone, gone! Gone forever!

_Oh, space time continuum, please rewind. Please, please rewind._

"Uh, Demyx?" The slate-haired man asked, one eyebrow elegantly raised. "Why are you pleading to the space time continuum?" Oh dear. This was not good. Not good at all.

"Well, you see- I well- there once was this fish named Flounder and he lived under the sea with this redheaded mermaid with a green tail, who liked to sing all the time. And, one day— oh dear moogles, please forget you just heard any of that." Demyx hid his face in his hands, allowing his dirty blond hair to shadow his tanned face.

"Gladly." The man grumbled, dropping a ten munny coin on the counter and crossing his arms in front of his chest in a near condescending manner. Demyx smiled once he'd heard the tiny click of munny. So, maybe everything wasn't going _exactly_ according to plan, but he could improvise, right?

Happily, the blond deposited the munny coin into the register, grabbing a tiny blue bag from the counter and holding it out to the man. But, as soon as he went to grab it, Demyx snatched it away and held it just out of reach. The man growled. "What exactly do you think you're doing, Demyx?"

"You don't get your cookie until you tell me your name." Demyx declared proudly, smiling to himself. Yes, he was a _genius_.

"My name is absolutely none of your business. Now, hand me my cookie."

"No. I want to know your name. It's only fair, right? You know _my_ name." The blond whined, pouting much like a child.

"That's because you wear a nametag, Demyx." He growled, angry at being denied his daily cookie because of such stupidity. Demanding, the man stuck his hand out, palm up, expecting Demyx to simply drop the cookie into it so he could be on his merry way. Demyx sighed, wavering, lowering the cookie ever so slowly. It was getting closer and closer, nearly touching his hand. Any second now, he would have it and Demyx would still have nothing. And, then, then he would leave just to come back tomorrow and follow the same routine where Demyx was just like some love-struck schoolgirl. Life would forever and thoroughly su—

"Hey, Zexion! I didn't know you came here."

And, then there was nothing but shocked silence. The slate-haired man's back stiffened expertly as his one visible eye widened at Demyx's ever-growing smile. In seconds, he had snatched his cookie from the man and fled, slamming the door behind him much like he'd done the very first time he'd visited the shop.

"Is it something I said?"

"Ah, _Zexion_."

Demyx had to admit, the name sounded nice on his tongue.

**- My Cookie -**

"You know, Demyx, you always go for the weird ones."

"Hmm?" The blond murmured, thoroughly absorbed in watching the love of his life stalk away from his shop. Today had been a good day, mostly. He and Zexion had actually had a real conversation—about the space time continuum of all things. Of course, Zexion still left in a huff, like he always seemed to. It really wasn't Demyx's fault this time, though. Honestly, it wasn't. He just happened to realize that the name Zexion allowed for some of the cutest nicknames, like Zex and Zexy. And, then he realized that those nicknames turned into Sex and Sexy if you weren't really paying attention, and then…well, he just had to turn it into 'Sexy Zexy.' Needless to say, Zexion didn't appreciate the comparison. Nevertheless, today had been a good day, despite the whole 'stalking away' bit there at the end, after he'd angered the slate-haired beauty yet again. Oh well; it was water under the bridge, or so the saying goes. Demyx was sure he'd be back tomorrow anyway. After all, he _always_ came back.

"You know what I mean, Dem. He's as weird as that biology teacher we had back in middle school." Now, this caused Demyx to raise an eyebrow at his best friend incredulously. Oh dear, if had finally happened: Axel had officially lost his mind.

"Please tell me you're not talking about Mr. Vexen; that man was a fruitcake in a fridge!" The redhead nodded, completely serious, despite the indeed…odd comparison. "My Zexion is absolutely nothing like him!"

"But, you have to admit, Dem. The man's just plain weird." Axel insisted, slowly pulling his flaming locks into a loose ponytail. "I mean, he's been coming here for over a year, right?" Demyx nodded. "And, in the past year, has he ordered anything other than that _one _lemon cookie?" Scrunching his eyebrows together, the blond shook his head. "Don't you find that just the tiniest bit odd?"

"Sure, it's a little different, but nothing like Mr. Vexen."

"This isn't about middle school, Dem. This is about your one-cookie loverboy." Demyx sighed, focusing on Axel's strange inverted tear tattoos on his lean face. He's thought about this before. Honestly, who wouldn't? Zexion came into the shop at the same time every single day and he bought the same thing every single day—always one lemon cookie. So, yeah, maybe it was a _little _weird.

"I'm sure he just has a thing for cookies."

"Of course, that's it. He just has a thing for exactly one lemon cookie a day." Axel scoffed. "Not a chance. He's weird, Dem. Face it."

"He is not!" Demyx pouted, his bottom lip stuck out. What he did was a little weird, sure. Coming in and buying the exact same thing every day at the exact same time couldn't be considered normal. But, he was just a little _different_, not weird at all. At least, not _really_. "I'll prove it to you too. When he comes by tomorrow, I'll get him to order something different. You'll see, Ax. You'll see." And, with that Demyx was off to the kitchen, in search of something his not-quite-boyfriend would like, even though he had absolutely no idea what the man liked. Axel just sighed, rubbing at his temples. Demyx= overreaction. Every time, man. Every bloody time.

Something told him that he was going to regret saying anything.

**- My Cookie -**

Zexion sighed under his breath, propping his chin on the palm of his hand, his elbows holding him up against the to-go counter. "Demyx, what exactly do you think you're doing?" Said blond just smiled, showing off his pearly whites as he managed to fit yet another sweet treat in front of the slate-haired man. By now, at least half of everything in the store was settled in front of the man, creating a mountain of sorts—the sugary sort, but a mountain all the same. "Demyx? Can you please just give me my cookie so I can go?" It's not like his whole life revolved around coming to Demyx's shop. Really. That would just be ridiculous.

"Nope!" The blond exclaimed cheekily, taking up a position directly across from the apple of his eye, his orbs locked on that porcelain skin, that silky hair, those luscious li—wait a minute; he was getting a bit ahead of himself. He was on a mission; a mission that did not, under any circumstances involve those lips—no matter how much he wanted it to.

"Nope?" Zexion mumbled incredulously. Demyx had never once denied him his cookie before. Never. Sure, he'd taunted him with it before, but never once had he outright _refused _to give it to him. "May I ask why?" He finally wondered aloud, his brows furrowed.

"Because." Demyx replied. One deep sea blue eye narrowed dangerously; Zexion was most definitely not amused. The blond fidgeted a bit behind the counter, but refused to let his smile drop. The gorgeous man before him had been coming into his shop for over a year, and through it all—learning his name, coming up with nicknames, selling him his cookie, pinning, sending him off in a huff—Zexion had never once left without his cookie. And, Demyx was going to make sure all that changed today. He'd show Axel. Zexion was not weird.

"Because why, Demyx?" Zexion asked, rubbing at his temples. He couldn't believe he was playing this game. Honestly. How old was he? Three?

"Because today you're not going to leave here with a cookie. Today you're leaving with something else." The blond nodded to himself, still smiling. "So, what do you want?" He asked, extending his arms out as if showing off his spread. One slate eyebrow rose impossibly high. "I have triple chocolate cake, homemade lemon drops, sea salt ice cream, four types of cheesecake, caramel chocolates, banana pudding, strawberry shortcake, and…well, just about anything else you could want too. So, what will it be?"

"None of the above. I want my cookie." Thinned lips narrowed at the blond, demanding. He'd been coming here for a year and damn it all, he _wanted_ his cookie.

"Not an option; we're out." The blond smirked, quite proud of himself for coming up with such an excuse.

"Liar. You've never once been out before. There's not a chance that you just ran out." Only to have it knocked down moments later. Really. Zexion never let him have any fun.

"Yeah, but…come on, don't you want to mix it up a little?" Demyx practically begged, sticking out his bottom lip and widening his oceanic eyes.

"No. Not at all." The sweet shop owner literally gasped. No one had ever resisted his puppy-dog eyes! No one!

"But…but…"

"No 'buts', Demyx." The blond visibly deflated a bit at that, sighing to himself as he stared at those hardened eyes less than two feet away. "Now, can I _please _have my cookie now?"

"Fine." The taller of the two huffed, sliding his hand under the counter in order to produce one little blue bag, containing one lemon cookie, just like always. (Was anyone else starting to see a pattern in this? Anyone at all?)

"Thank you." And, with that Zexion grabbed his cookie and left, much like he always did. Because nothing ever changed. He came in every day at exactly four o'clock. He bought one cookie every day—just one stupid lemon cookie. And, he never ever bought anything else. It was official, as much as Demyx wished to deny it.

"Axel!" He whined, forehead literally denting the counter top.

The redhead in question just rolled his eyes, attempting to drown him out—really, he was on his break and damn it all, for once he wanted his ten minutes to actually _be_ ten minutes. But, with one look at the blond, he knew that wasn't going to be impossible; the man was practically bawling. "What is it, Dem?"

"He's weird!"

Man, he knew he was going to regret this.

**- My Cookie -**

It had been six days. Six days of Zexion coming to the shop, six days of attempting to persuade him to buy something else, and, of course, six days of complete and utter failure. Everyday Demyx tried and tried, but Zexion refused absolutely _everything_ the blond offered, settling for only his cookie and nothing more. The sweet shop owner was practically on his last leg!

Which is exactly what led him here, to Atlantica's prized public library.

The building stood out against the dreary offices and small townhouses that lined the street, its outer walls made of pure, white marble, beautifully crafted steps leading the occasional passerby into its heavily conditioned inside. Demyx marveled at the architecture as he ascended those beautiful steps and retreated inside of the building, a smile tugging at his cheeks.

He loved the library (yes—contrary to popular belief, Demyx is actually rather well-read). Back before he owned his own shop, Demyx had come here every day in search of new sugar-coated recipes and the occasional book on music theory. He would spend hours combing the aisles in search of exactly what he wanted; some days he even stopped in one place long enough to read a book from cover to cover. Yes, the library really did bring back pleasant memories for the blond.

Of course, it's not like he was here to relive his childhood. No, Demyx had come to the library in for one reason and one reason only: to find the perfect recipe. A recipe that would create a treat so delicious that Zexion would find himself unable to refuse it. The perfect baked concoction.

Purposefully, the blond made his way to the home aisle, turning his back on the home and gardening books in favor of the one thing he was after: sweets. Lots and lots of wonderful, glorious sweets. There were three full rows of nothing but books on the sugary things. And, Demyx…he would gladly read every single one of them if it brought him closer to the slate haired beauty that he had fallen head over heels for. So, he sat, right in the middle of the aisle, not even bothering to make room for anyone who may wish to pass, and began to pull books down, one after another until he was surrounded by mountains of the things.

After a while, Demyx didn't know how long he'd been there. He'd made it through two full books on chocolate creations, a book on the wonders of cool whip, a book on sensuality and strawberries (what? He was just curious), and half of a volume on vanilla and its uses, yet he still couldn't find the perfect recipe. Nothing seemed quite right. Some things were too over the top; while others were simply too…well, simple. Every recipe had something wrong with it, something that made it less than appealing, something that Demyx just knew that the slate haired male would refuse. But, no matter. Demyx was prepared to sit and read and wait for the perfect recipe! He would not settle for anything less than perfection! He would preva—

"Demyx?" The blond jumped, effectively knocking down a stack of books that he'd pulled down hours earlier.

He knew that voice.

"Zexion?" He squeaked, raising his oceanic eyes just enough to see that frail—yet strangely intimidating—figure. Oh dear. This was not good. Not good at all. And, not the 'oh dear, I just blew up my science exam' type of not good either. This was the 'oh shit, grab the bat! The zombies are coming' sort of not good. "Umm…what are you doing here?"

The questioned man raised an eyebrow, smirking lightly. "I work here, Demyx." He explained, patiently gesturing to his nametag that proudly proclaimed _'Hello, my name is Zexion_.' "I think that the correct question is why are _you _here?"

"Oh, ha, well you see, that fish—Flounder—had to watch after his mermaid friend because she was this really rebellious princess, and she was always getting Flounder into trouble. She dragged him up to the surface world, even though it was forbidden. And, this one time, during the dead of night, there was—oh moogles! I'm doing it again!" Demyx face palmed, literally. He was such an idiot! Why oh why did he have to reword _The Little Mermaid_ of all things? And at a time like this too! "Uh, Zexion?"

The slate-haired male sighed. "Yes, yes. I'll forget you said anything." Gratefully, the blond nodded, happy that Zexion was so understanding—or he just didn't care. "Are you going to tell me why you're here now?"

"Oh well…I'm looking for a new recipe to introduce to the shop." He mumbled. What? It's not like he could tell him the _real _reason he came here, and it's not like he was lying. Technically anyway.

"Oh. Any luck?"

The blond sighed dejectedly. "No, not just yet."

"Really?" Cautiously, Zexion made to stand right behind the blond, looking over his shoulder at this delicious looking vanilla cake that graced the page of his current book. "That looks pretty good."

Oceanic eyes shown, a new spark settling in their blue depths. Hastily, the blond stood, nearly knocking Zexion into a pile of hurriedly staked books. This was it. This was the recipe that Zexion would favor, forgetting all about his blasted cookie! Proving once and for all his Zexion was perfectly normal! Not weird at all!

"Thank you, Zexion! You won't regret this!" Demyx yelled over his shoulder as he ran to the counter, ready to get home and put his baking skills to use.

The slate-haired male sighed, rubbing at his temples, staring at the stacks and stacks of books that he would have to reshelf. And, as much as he knew he would hate having to put every single one of those silly books away, Zexion couldn't help but smile.

**- My Cookie -**

He had done it. It had taken all night long—give or take an hour or two due to Demyx's overwhelming need to watch a Disney movie every Thursday afternoon—but Demyx had finally done it; he had made the perfect vanilla cake, topped with mountains of whipped topping and strawberries, just waiting to be devoured. There was no way that Zexion would be able to refuse. And, thus, Demyx will have finally proven that Zexion is not weird! All he had to do now as wait for the man to show up and get him to try a slice. No problem, right?

Well, Demyx hoped so anyway.

The bell at the door chimed, signaling another customer in search of sweets. The blond didn't even both looking from his position at the to-go counter; he knew exactly who it was. And, he was ready. No matter what, he had to make Zexion try a piece of cake. Even a bite would be sufficient. Of course, Demyx knew from experience that that was much easier said than done, but he wasn't going to give up. No, he was too close for that. Resistance would be futile! He would succeed! Zexion _would _try his cake and give up on his bitter cookie forever!

That was the plan, anyway.

"Hello, Demyx." Said blond finally looked up, smiling that characteristic grin of his at the beautiful sea blue eyes he saw. He could do this. He could _totally _do this. It's not like this one moment would define the rest of his life. Really. That would just be plain silly. "The usual, please." One shiny munny coin was deposited on the counter, clicking as it hit.

"You know, Zexion…maybe you would like to try something else today?" Demyx asked, grabbing the coin and sliding it into the register, not even bothering to take his eyes away from the slate-haired male.

"I believe we've been over this before, Demyx."

The blond cringed a bit—on the inside, where no one could see. "Yeah, but…maybe you'd like to try some cake?" He gestured to the single most perfect piece of diet-destroying he'd _ever_ bothered to create. Zexion just raised one perfect eyebrow.

"Isn't that the cake that was in that book yesterday?" Hastily, the blond shook his head —signaling that yes, that was most definitely the cake that had been in that book. "It looks even better off of paper, don't you agree?"

"Of course. Why don't you try some, free of charge?"

"No; that won't be necessary. I don't really want any."

"B-but...you said…and…that doesn't…I-I…" This wasn't going the way he'd wanted it to at all. Zexion was supposed to _agree_. He was supposed to _eat _the cake, not just stare at it! And, he'd tried so hard! He always tried so hard with Zexion, and absolutely nothing worked! No matter what he did, Zexion just ordered that one stupid cookie! That one stupid, stupid, _stupid _cookie!

"Uh, Demyx, are you okay?"

"No! No I am not okay!" The blond screamed, finally having enough, fisted curled at his side, tears building in his eyes. He just couldn't win. He just couldn't...ever win, could he? "All you ever want is that stupid cookie, and I made you a cake, because _you said it looked good_! And, you won't even try it! You come in every day for that stupid cookie and you don't notice _me_ at all! You came in every day for a year before I even learned your name! And, it's just not fair…it's not fair at all. Because- because I _love_ you, and you don't even care…"

And, now Demyx really was crying, tears streaming down his cheeks, because he'd finally said something. In that one moment, everything came crashing down, because Zexion wouldn't come back now. He'd go somewhere else. He didn't care about Demyx, no matter how much Demyx cared about him. He wasn't supposed to find out; he wasn't supposed to say anything. And, now, Demyx wouldn't even get to see him again.

He had probably already left.

Rubbing at his eyes, Demyx looked up to see…Zexion just standing there. Eyes wide in shock, like he really didn't know. Like he couldn't have even _guessed_. And, then…then he leaned across the counter, on his tip-toes, so his mouth was even with Demyx's and said one little thing that made everything okay. That made everything that much better.

"_I don't like sweets." _

And, then he kissed him for all he was worth.

* * *

**A/N: And, it's finally done! Let it be known that fluff is most definitely _not _something I'm good at. Anyway, this was a request for xxFraise (and I do hope your name actually went through) for being the 50th reviewer for my fic Someday, and yes, I know this was supposed to be done back in like...June, but I am a fail updater, as we all know by now. ^^**

**Anyway, I hoped you like it. Reviewers are loved! **

**Oh! And, for those of you waiting on Keys and Kissing, it may be a bit later than planned, due to me taking time off to work on this and my inability to correctly do chemistry. (I'm not kidding). **


End file.
